


peonies.

by orphan_account



Series: tumblr requests. [122]
Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Established Relationship, Gardens & Gardening, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:21:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23206915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “I’m kinda new to your page so I’m not sure if you write smut but if you do could you maybe do some mcharrison smut with George bottoming? It would be much appreciated👍”
Relationships: George Harrison/Paul McCartney
Series: tumblr requests. [122]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1336198
Kudos: 23





	peonies.

**Author's Note:**

> ah, lookatit, the coronavirus shutdown (aka no school) have been long enough for my brain to finally let me write again :')

1967,

He had been in the garden for hours, tending the flowers; warm and gently, making sure they got the care they needed. The sun had remained high and proud on the clear blue sky since early morning; a perfect picture for the summer day to come. He had stayed in the garden as much as his body allowed- only going back inside for bathroom or lunch breaks, of which were rare. He found himself unable to tear himself away from the busy work of studying the flowers’ health and making sure no pests had gotten to them. So it came as a great shock when a pale hand landed suddenly on his shoulder, almost knocking him off his feet as he sat kneeling, looking at the lilac posies blossoming.

He steadied his heart, his thin hand feeling it beat rapidly underneath his clothes, it was going faster than a race car from the shock, and he shifted lightly around on his feet to find Paul standing there, looking at him with a lazy smile and hazed look, distant in his eyes. He smiled widely as he greeted his friend with a croak of his name; George’s throat had gone dry from the long and silent stay out in the sun. He rose quickly to greet his friend with a tight hug.

“Hiya, Georgie,” Paul said in a light voice, melodic, almost like singing, as he swayed on his feet, arms gripping tightly at George’s shoulders; his dark brown hair was a beautiful contrast to the clear blue background of the bright sky. Smoke filling the hair in front of them from Paul’s cigarette, perched lightly between his lips.

It didn’t take long before Paul eventually tired of standing (George had already guessed his drugged state by… everything about him). Paul dramatically dropped to his knees in front of the other Beatle, fingers holding tightly to his ciggy, desperately not to drop it on his way down. He swayed back and forth on his feet for a few unnerving seconds before falling completely on his arse on the sun-warmed grass. 

“Are ye high?” George asked the obvious, smiling as he watched Paul adjust himself on the grass, failing on doing so with only one hand- the other holding on to the cigarette for dear life. “Just a smidge,” Paul giggled as he looked up at George, eyes half-closed as he tried to see George through the sharp sun rays. 

Paul petted the grass as he felt the cool dew on the grass seep through his thin and loose trousers, enjoying the last few puffs of his ciggy, feeling himself sobering up in the bright sun. George had returned to silence, studying his friend, wondering what to do next. His thoughtless mind was full again as he heard cackles turn into deep giggles from the bassist on the ground. Paul sat, pulling healthy green blades of grass free from the ground, colouring the tips of his fingers green, as he sat and smiled at his own little thoughts. He heard Paul whisper _‘I got the best ideas_ ’ and watched him creep and crawl towards his feet; silent and confused, curious as to see what the older man was about to do. 

The linen fabric of his trouser as Paul pulled himself to his knees by the aid of George’s knees. He questioned the acts of the bassists, audibly wondering what was on his mind- the mind so fogged up from the joyous weeds. Sharply. Paul pulled down the trousers in a swift and sudden movement and George was left bare arsed in his vast and empty garden. “P-Paul!” He erupted in a mixture of shock and amusement. It would hardly have been the first time this would have happened; Paul leaving George bare-arsed, that is, as they had had many dalliances in their youth.

Paul rubbed his soft and naked cheek against George’s legs; feeling the coarse hairs go up and down and as he petted with his cheek- his flushed colours making quite a contrast against the paleness of the skin of George’s legs. “Needed to see that pretty cock again,” Paul muttered as his hands crept past his face, up against the sturdy legs, to cup George’s balls, teasing his rising cock. “ _Been too long_ ,” he muttered, casting a single glance to George, before fully divulging his attention to George’s cock that was all too eager for it.


End file.
